Mae stepped out of the diner, her thoughts a chaotic swirl. The air outside was crisp, with a faint chill hinting that fall was just around the corner. The city buzzed with life, indifferent to the turmoil unraveling inside her. Frank's words echoed in her mind, louder than the noise of the street: "They're asking about your past. It's personal."

Her past. The very thing she had tried so hard to leave behind was now threatening to pull her back into the shadows. Mae walked aimlessly for a few blocks, her feet carrying her down familiar streets as she tried to process everything. Her instincts told her to run, to disappear, but Frank had made it clear that running wasn't an option. Whoever was behind this had reach, power, and they weren't going to let her go so easily.

She had become Mae at Hell's Angels to forget. To reinvent herself. To escape the old life that no longer fit her, the one where Seraphina had been a devoted nun, hidden away in the walls of a convent, before a painful twist of fate had sent her spiraling into a new reality.

But now, it seemed that no matter how fast or far she ran, Seraphina's shadow was following her.

Mae stopped in front of a small park and sat down on a bench, her fingers brushing through her hair as she stared into the distance. There were children playing nearby, their laughter carrying on the breeze, a bittersweet contrast to the darkness pressing down on her.

She couldn't help but wonder if she had made the right choices. Leaving the convent, changing her name, starting a new life. It had felt necessary at the time, but now she was beginning to question everything.

"Why now?" she muttered to herself, rubbing her temples. What was it about this moment that had set things in motion? Who had started asking questions? Who wanted her back?

Her phone buzzed, pulling her from her thoughts. She reached into her pocket, half-expecting it to be Frank again, but the number was unknown. Her heart skipped a beat, a familiar chill crawling up her spine. She hesitated, her finger hovering over the screen, before finally swiping to answer.

"Mae?" The voice on the other end was deep, unfamiliar, and yet there was something unsettlingly calm about it.

Her stomach flipped. "Who is this?"

"Who I am isn't important. What is important is that you listen very carefully. We know who you are, Mae—or should I say, Seraphina?"

The name hit her like a punch to the gut. She hadn't heard anyone call her that in years. Her pulse quickened, fear flooding her veins. "What do you want?" she demanded, her voice trembling despite her best efforts to sound strong.

There was a pause on the other end, and then the man continued, his tone casual, as if they were discussing the weather. "We've been watching you for some time now. You've built quite the life for yourself. But you've been lying to everyone, haven't you?"

Mae swallowed hard, her throat dry. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Oh, I think you do," the man replied smoothly. "You can try to hide behind the name Mae, but we both know that's not who you really are. You can run from your past, but you can't hide from us."

Her heart pounded in her chest, her mind racing. How much did they know? And what did they want from her?

"If this is about money—" she began, but the man cut her off.

"It's not about money, Seraphina. It's about power. Control. You've been living a lie, and it's time for the truth to come out. We're giving you a choice—either you cooperate, or we'll make sure everyone knows exactly who you are. Every secret. Every lie."

Mae gripped the phone tighter, her breath coming in short, panicked gasps. "Why are you doing this? What do you want from me?"

There was another long pause, and when the man spoke again, his voice was colder. "You'll find out soon enough. For now, just know that we're always watching. You can't escape us. And if you try to run, you'll regret it."

The line went dead.

Mae stared at her phone, her hands trembling. The blood drained from her face, leaving her light-headed as she struggled to process what had just happened. She stood up, her legs shaky, and started walking, not even sure where she was headed.

They knew. Whoever they were, they knew who she was. Seraphina. The name felt foreign now, but it was a part of her, a part she had buried deep down. And now, it was resurfacing, threatening to tear apart the life she had built.

She needed answers. She needed to know who was behind this. And more importantly, she needed to figure out how to stop them before they destroyed everything.

The club was unusually quiet that night. Even the usual hum of conversation and the clinking of glasses felt muted, as if the weight of Mae's secret had bled into the atmosphere. She moved through the backstage area with purpose, her face calm but her mind spinning.

Frank had told her to lay low, but how was she supposed to do that when the very air around her felt suffocating?

She entered her dressing room and closed the door behind her, locking it for good measure. The mirror stared back at her, reflecting a version of herself she didn't quite recognize. Mae—the confident, seductive performer, the woman who commanded attention and power on the stage.

But beneath the makeup and the allure, she was still Seraphina. She could no longer deny it.

A knock at the door startled her. Mae's heart raced as she crossed the room and opened it cautiously. It was Layla.

"Mae, are you alright?" Layla asked, her brows furrowed with concern. "You've been off all day."

Mae forced a smile, but it didn't reach her eyes. "I'm fine. Just tired."

Layla stepped closer, her gaze searching Mae's face. "Are you sure? Because if something's wrong—"

"I said I'm fine," Mae snapped, her voice sharper than she intended. She immediately regretted it, seeing the hurt flash across Layla's face. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to—" Mae sighed, rubbing her temples. "It's just... a lot right now."

Layla nodded slowly, her expression softening. "I get it. Just... if you need to talk, I'm here, okay?"

Mae nodded, appreciating Layla's concern, but knowing that this was something she had to face alone. She couldn't drag Layla into this, not when she didn't even know what this was.

"I'll be fine," Mae said, her voice quieter now. "Thanks, though."

With a final nod, Layla left, closing the door behind her. Mae exhaled a shaky breath and sat down at her vanity, staring at herself in the mirror once again.

She had spent years trying to escape her past, trying to outrun the ghosts of who she used to be. But now, they had caught up with her.

And Mae wasn't sure if she was strong enough to face them.

-

Mae's heart raced as she sat in her dressing room, her fingers tracing the edges of her phone. The threat from the mysterious caller still echoed in her mind: We know who you are. You can't escape us. Every nerve in her body buzzed with the weight of those words. The world she had built, the life she had created as Mae, felt like it was on the verge of crumbling, piece by piece.

She stood up abruptly, needing to move, to do something. But there was nowhere to go, no one she could turn to for answers. Frank had told her to lay low, but now that seemed impossible. They had found her already. Whoever they were, they were watching her, pulling strings from the shadows. And they knew everything.

She grabbed her coat and left the dressing room, making her way through the quiet backstage corridors of Hell's Angels. The club was starting to fill up again for the night, the usual buzz of excitement building in the main room. But Mae felt disconnected from it all, like she was watching from the outside.

Her steps quickened as she exited the club and stepped out into the cold night air. The city around her was alive, neon lights flashing, cars honking, people rushing by. But Mae barely noticed. Her thoughts were focused on one thing: finding out who was behind the threat.

She couldn't keep running. She had to figure out who they were, what they wanted from her, and why they were dredging up the past she had worked so hard to bury.

Mae walked aimlessly for a few blocks, her mind racing. She tried to think of who might know something, anyone she could trust to help her figure this out. Frank had always been her go-to, but even he seemed rattled lately, and she wasn't sure how much more he could protect her. Layla was too close to the club, too innocent in all of this. Mae couldn't drag her into the darkness that was slowly swallowing her life.

As she walked, her phone buzzed in her pocket. Mae's stomach tightened as she pulled it out, half-expecting another cryptic message from the unknown caller. But it wasn't.

It was Frank.

"I've been digging. We need to talk. Meet me at the park."

Mae stared at the message for a moment, her heart pounding. She had hoped Frank would come up with something, but fear gripped her all the same. What had he found out? And was it something she was ready to hear?

She took a deep breath and turned, heading toward the park a few blocks away. The streets seemed darker now, the buildings taller, the shadows deeper. Every step felt heavy, as if the weight of her past was pressing down on her, pulling her back into the life she had tried so hard to escape.

When Mae reached the park, she found Frank sitting on a bench near the entrance, his back to her. His shoulders were hunched, his face hidden in the shadow of his jacket's hood. She hesitated for a moment, wondering what he had uncovered and whether it was something she truly wanted to know.

"Frank?" she called softly as she approached.

He looked up, his face grim. "Mae, sit down."

Mae sat beside him, her heart racing. The park was eerily quiet, the sound of distant traffic the only noise breaking the silence. She could feel the tension in the air between them, thick and suffocating.

"What did you find?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

Frank sighed, running a hand through his hair. "It's worse than I thought," he said, his tone heavy. "I've been talking to some old contacts, people who know things, and... Mae, the people asking questions about you... they're powerful. They're connected. And they don't just want information about your past. They want you."

Mae's blood ran cold. "What do you mean they want me?"

"They're looking for leverage," Frank explained. "They know about your past—about Seraphina. They're using that to control you, to make you bend to their will. And if you don't comply, they'll expose everything."

Mae stared at him, her mind spinning. "Why? What do they want from me?"

Frank shook his head. "I don't know all the details yet, but it's not just about Hell's Angels. This goes deeper. It's about power, control. These people... they don't just want you to perform. They want to own you, Mae. Body and soul."

A chill ran down Mae's spine as Frank's words sank in. She had felt trapped before, but this was something else. Whoever these people were, they didn't just want to use her—they wanted to break her, to claim her for their own.

"They've been watching you for a long time," Frank continued, his voice low. "Longer than you know. Everything you've done, every move you've made—they've been orchestrating it from the shadows. And now, they're ready to pull the strings."

Mae felt a wave of nausea wash over her. "How do I stop this?" she asked, her voice trembling. "How do I get out?"

Frank's expression darkened. "There's no easy way out, Mae. These people don't just let go. But there might be one option."

Mae looked at him, her heart pounding. "What is it?"

"There's someone I know," Frank said slowly. "Someone who might be able to help you disappear, to wipe the slate clean and start over somewhere new. But it's risky. And once you do it, there's no coming back."

Mae's mind raced. Disappear? Start over? She had done it once before, when she became Mae. Could she do it again? Could she leave everything behind—Hell's Angels, Layla, even Frank—and vanish into the shadows?

"Is that what you want, Mae?" Frank asked quietly. "Because once you make that choice, there's no undoing it."

Mae's breath caught in her throat. She didn't know what she wanted. Part of her wanted to run, to escape this nightmare and start fresh. But another part of her—the stronger part—refused to let them win. She had fought too hard to build this life, to carve out a space for herself. And now, they were trying to take it away.

"I don't want to run," Mae said finally, her voice steady. "I won't let them do this to me. I won't let them control me."

Frank nodded, though his expression was grim. "Then we fight. But Mae, you need to be careful. These people... they don't play fair. If you push back, they'll push harder. And they'll go after the people you care about to get to you."

Mae's stomach twisted at the thought. Layla. Frank. Everyone she had come to care about since leaving her old life behind. They were all at risk now, just by being close to her.

"I'll do whatever it takes," Mae said, her voice firm. "But I'm not running. Not this time."

Frank looked at her for a long moment, his eyes filled with concern. "Alright," he said softly. "But be ready, Mae. Because this fight is just beginning."